It's All Fiction
by happyinchintz72
Summary: Follow on from 2x15 and their 'non-conversation'. Kurt is frightened and doesn't ever see how that will change... ONE-SHOT. Angsty fluff.


**_I had to write this... _**

**_I haven't been so moved OR felt as much empathy for a character for a long long time. I adore Kurt and always have - he's my favourite - and I've always felt such a connection to his character for some odd reason but now, it's even STRONGER...  
_**

**_"I like romance. That's why I like Broadway musicals, because the touch of fingertips is as sexy as it gets." _**

**_That line. My god. The acting... the way he shook his head even before Blaine could finish saying "we should have a conversation about it". I can't even say how much that got to me._**

**_Anyway, I've read a few things since then that have made me so angry. People claiming that Kurt is weird and clearly asexual for feeling that way and secondly, that Blaine was cruel to push him. _**

**_I could rant for DAYS about this but I won't! Yes, it's a distinct possibility that Kurt COULD be asexual but, look, April Rhodes gave him Vintage Muscle magazines and he seemed pretty peachy about them and he's sure he LIKES boys and has also tried watching 'those' movies so that points heavily towards the fact that he's gay but holds serious intimacy issues and finds solace in the idealism of an entirely romantic relationship free of that KIND of intimacy. Secondly, Blaine did NOT realise the strength of Kurt's concerns until Kurt almost cried in front of him and asked him to leave. Kurt would have ripped it out of Blaine if he'd have danced silly or done ANYTHING that Kurt found funny - this is KURT after all, Kurt with biting wit and sarcasm! Blaine wasn't being cruel - he tried to help and freaked out a little once he realised this wasn't something minor! Going to someone's dad like that is the sure sign of someone who CLEARLY cares deeply. _**

**_The thought of someone taking those scenes OUT of the context they're intended is just SUCH a shame. I REALLY hope that Brad, Ian and Ryan don't forget or push aside those scenes and make Kurt suddenly UP for that kind of thing without treating it properly... it's an issue that's not bandied around enough._**

**_ANYWAY, I really and sincerely hope you enjoy reading... :) _**

* * *

The afternoon had been peaceful, which was a change for the Hudson-Hummel household. Kurt fluffed up his pillows, piling them high behind his back as he flipped through his glossy magazine mindlessly. The silence prompted deep thought and it was entirely distracting, causing Kurt to descend into a daydream.

He was terrified. It wasn't just fear, nor was it concern and it certainly wasn't a normal amount of discomfort that any other teenager would struggle through to reach the other side. It was crippling terror- the kind that makes you catch your breath, freeze, shake and blink back the burn of tears.

The most upsetting thing was the frustration. He knew he shouldn't feel that way, knew he should be like other teenager who seemed to be able to act without restraint but he couldn't act, he could barely even contend with the idea of letting someone see... well, see _him_. It wasn't that he didn't want it- he did– he wanted to feel that closeness, the touch of another person so bold and spine-tingling but it was the mere thought of it that was so confusing. It was alien to him, so strange to even comprehend and consider because he hadn't so much as been touched by another guy in a way other than predatory and unwanted. Touches were important. He closed his eyes, sinking into his duvet, letting his mind toy with the idea that someone else was moving towards him, leaning on the bed, reaching out to touch, their eyes resolute and deep in a way that meant only one thing -

His eyes snapped open, stomach twisting and eyes prickling. It was too much. His mind flooded with conclusions: 'it's never going to happen to me' and 'nobody will want to see me like that'. He screwed his eyes shut again in an attempt to regulate his shuddering breath and wrapped an arm around himself, curling close against his fur throw, relishing in the comfort he could provide himself – it felt warm and safe. Nobody was judging him, nobody was looking at him, nobody was thinking about him or expecting things of him; it was both horrifyingly lonely and consoling at once. He had nobody to impress at all. His private cocoon was impenetrable in a way that Kurt recognised as both unhealthy and too tempting for his own good.

He didn't hate himself and he wasn't disgusted with the way he looked. He glanced at himself every morning as he left the house and often he liked what he saw- the bold colours, cleverly positioned layers and the various textures combined to make a 'look'. It was the second the clothes came off- that was the crux of the issue. He considered the mirror to be his best friend during his nightly skin care routine but it was akin to a mortal enemy when it displayed his body, unclothed, bare and open for scrutiny in the most embarrassing way. Kurt didn't tend to allow himself those moments; instead he wrapped a thick woollen robe around himself after a shower, covered his pajamas with a matching robe in the evening, he dressed on the other side of his room and was careful to keep his eyes as focused on the floor as he stepped out of the shower. He wasn't fat but wasn't skinny either, which was part of the problem. He was sure there was a scale to measure himself upon but he had no frame of reference for that - no basis upon which to judge himself properly.

He saw his body daily with stark reality. It was awkward and unprepared; it was lean but curvaceous in a way that most guys weren't. He had built shoulders and arms but against a waist as small as his, it was as if he'd been pieced together like a kid's toy- odd and arranged imperfectly. There wasn't a landscape to his body, no comfort there in the curves of his hips and the muscles of his arms. He remembered being referred to as a 'milk maid' and it was a curse he adopted and repeated as a mantra to remind himself that he wasn't like other boys - he was different. It was simultaneously his best quality and his biggest insecurity. Being different was something he prided himself on when the subject turned to culture, talent and fashion but when it was body type and intimacy, his differences were not something he cherished in that respect, they were embarrassing and frustrating; it was the only part of his life in which he craved complete normalcy. Sexy and desirable were words with which he was entirely unfamiliar. He neither embodied them or truly understood what they meant.

He and Blaine had become very close. Blaine was his best friend, alongside Mercedes, but they had something unique, an unspoken understanding. It was a blessing in more ways than one. Kurt felt his heart pen a list of his most dreamt of scenarios on a daily basis, preparing him for a whirlwind romance that he'd longed for from an early age but then there was the big elephant in the room, tainting every hope he had that Blaine would admit some kind of feelings for him. Some day it would have to progress further, someday he'd have to leave his comfort zone and it was enough to quash the twinkling excitement of a new relationship. His first boyfriend would, undoubtedly, be his first... _everything else_. It was wonderful to spend so much time with Blaine and to feel so cared for – it was something strong and exceptional, which provided an odd blanketed warmth whenever Kurt even contemplated the fact. He had someone to call, someone to sing with, another person to talk to about his interests who wouldn't roll their eyes like Finn or stare blankly like Burt, he had a person to plan with and he had found someone that really saw him and saw through everything to care enough to want to stick around. Kurt was well aware of his luck; it shocked him daily at weird moments like folding his clothes, when he'd remember that Blaine was, for all intent and purpose, the person he wanted as his boyfriend. In those moments, no matter how misguided, the world suddenly got a bit brighter.

The trouble came when reality kicked in. It was all well and good to lie in bed recalling the curls that teased at Blaine's ear or the shining smile he often sent in Kurt's direction but in the cold light of day there was a barrier, so impenetrable and unwanted, standing in his way, one which stopped him from enjoying it all.

They'd planned to spend the night watching DVDs as a break from the slog of mid-terms, which Burt had been happy to give permission to. Blaine would be in his room again, where he often found himself. His curly hair tamed with product, the inimitable Old Hollywood allure, his proportioned frame so strong yet without the height that other guys have. In reality, Blaine shouldn't have stood out and certainly should not have attracted the attention but he did. There was something inherent in him that oozed charm. He had a strange sense of natural born rhythm and presence that enabled him to weave amongst a sea of testosterone and other boys double his height yet still command everyone's attention in a heartbeat. He was thoughtful and serene, cocky and confident but with such a hint of humour which only served to cause people to enamour him more. Kurt knew he could not have asked for a better first boyfriend.

The reality was that he knew the panic all too well; the white wash of paralysing fear that took control and gripped his body in wave after wave of anxiety at the mere suggestion of someone looking at him in a sexual way. All guys wanted something, they surely didn't hit on you to be able to hold hands with you and Kurt was sure they didn't want a fairytale romance filled with long walks, romantic theatre trips and picnics in the park and even if they wanted that, they want everything else too- the kissing, the groping, the sex, the intimate acts which caused Kurt's blood to run cold. Blaine was a boy so surely he wanted these things too- he wasn't a robot.

Kurt swallowed hard, his brow furrowing as he rubbed a hand over his face. It was a person's eyes. He avoided them as often as possible, staring at the ground and even flipping a few sarcastic comments in their direction to keep them at bay- better they think he's an asshole than get too close and realise he's painfully virginal and incapable of mere touching never mind anything _else. _He'd tried before and look where it'd got him. He was cursed.

He felt his fingers clasp the soft cotton of his sheets in a way that allowed the pent up anger to seep out gradually. He leaned back quickly, fumbling for the buttons on his iPod dock and found his Broadway medley in a second. As he pressed play and settled back against his fur throw, the lilting melodies took over and soothed his soul. It was the way life should be. He had meant every word when he'd told Blaine that he liked romance. He dreamt of it daily if he was honest; the soft caress of fingers over hands, teasing at the skin gently then holding tight, warm and solid. To walk hand in hand with another was a big deal and he felt horridly childish for thinking so but a kiss had been stolen so quickly and callously from him- he wanted a moment that he could call his own and claim. For someone to reach out and take a hand showed a great deal of affection, of genuine care and attention but lacked the expectation to progress any further into any territory which gripped Kurt's nerves in a vice-like manner. It was the most intimate Kurt could see himself being but, at the same time, his brain toyed with the idea of someone pulling him closer and pressing a small kiss to his lips. As cripplingly frightening as it felt to imagine such a thing, Kurt recognised the tiny cascade of shivers that travelled down his spine at the mere thought. He'd be lying if he said he didn't touch himself and hadn't experimented in _that _way but, still, he was alone, embarrassed at himself _behind closed doors _and entirely free from ridicule. These were things he wanted but such things didn't happen to him- they were the work of fictional characters and the rest of the world.

"Kurt?"

He snapped his head up, releasing the material clawed in his grip and flushed an embarrassingly deep shade of red as if Blaine could read his mind.

"I- I didn't know you were coming over so early," he rushed out, switching off his iPod dock in a second.

"Oh it's ok, I text you but you didn't reply so I thought I'd come over early as a surprise." Kurt watched as Blaine flopped down on his bed, easy and fluid, with a sparkling grin in his distinct direction. "Are you ok?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" There was the frustration again. He shook his head, easing out a smile as he sat up, watching as Blaine pulled a pile of DVDs out of his bag and splayed them on the bed.

"I brought some I know you haven't seen and some classics too. I didn't know what kind of mood we'd be in."

Kurt wasn't stiflingly nervous around Blaine as such but he was still a boy, in his room, on his bed, which provided a list of three reasons guaranteed to mask Kurt's mood in a thin film of stark awareness. Every move Kurt made was still considered, his brain flooding with how things could change all at once, how Blaine could suddenly crawl over and do something unexpected, breaking down whatever walls Kurt usually placed around himself. It was the lack of control that sparked the fear. They'd hardly progressed at all and the panic was beginning to set in- something was going to have to give and Kurt wasn't all too sure he was capable or ready.

"You brought The Breakfast Club?" Kurt asked with a smile, toying with the box.

"I know, I know, I always go on about it but it's such a good movie and you know my love for the Brat Pack movies. Blame my mother, she did name me after a character from one."

Kurt laughed lightly, passing Blaine the box resolutely as a signal to just 'get on with it'. The light shone in Blaine's eyes as he, clearly pleased with himself, climbed off the edge of Kurt's bed to set it up. The way Blaine moved was addictive and inspiring. He was so able to just fit into his surroundings with an almost arrogant sense of belonging, something which Kurt admired. He didn't have such a gift unfortunately and often, despite his ability to switch on the confidence, felt himself watching everything in his own unique way of over-thinking the world.

As the titles rolled and Blaine settled back against the pillows, he watched as Kurt focused on the screen. His shoulders were still heightened, raised a little. Someone who didn't know Kurt too well wouldn't notice at all but it was all so noticeable now when Blaine considered their months of friendship. Blaine couldn't recall a moment when Kurt had instigated a touch between them that was anything but necessary and it wasn't as if they hadn't touched at all – they had. Blaine was the affectionate one, the one quick to grab shoulders, hold hands and playfully nudge but, still, after months of being almost inseparable and experiencing their fair share of ups and downs, Blaine could still tell that Kurt was on edge. It wasn't something he took personally but was a concern. It was a concern he wanted to help with so badly that he had tried to find the right moment to address it.

The first time he'd reached out to hold Kurt's hand, there'd been a... moment. He'd flinched and jumped, his body turning rigid in a second, before softening with a grateful smile and pinkness to his cheeks. Blaine had beamed back – he wanted to show how nice it felt – but Kurt hadn't reached out himself since.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Kurt shuffled to his side a little, feeling the dip in the mattress.

"Am I taking up too much room?" Blaine asked, feeling the thickness of the atmosphere.

"No. Not at all," Kurt replied, with a sincere attempt to appear at ease, "just skinny jeans aren't the most comfortable things to sit in sometimes but I guess you have to suffer for fashion.."

Blaine chuckled sinking further back. He turned his head, keeping his eyes locked on Kurt's for longer than normal. It was dark outside now, the lamp light on Kurt's nightstand providing the only source of light and consequently casting the prettiest shadows across his skin. That sight was one Blaine would never get used to.

"What?" Kurt asked, his hand flying to his face immediately. Blaine reached out and drew it down, placing it back on Kurt's knee.

"Nothing," he explained, "do I need an excuse?"

Kurt smiled, glancing down at his hands. "I guess not." He turned his attention back to the screen once more, eyes boring into it as if his life depended upon it. The nerves trickled their way down his spine, sending waves of anxiety through his limbs.

""Kurt, can I talk to you about something?"

There it was.

"Mmm hmm," he replied, turning with raised eyebrows and pursed lips.

Blaine settled himself to face Kurt. He took a deep breath, laboriously slow and controlled. "Can you remember when we talked after we performed for the Crawford girls?"

Kurt nodded stiffly. "Yes."

"We never talked about it again and I always felt like we... well, like we should have because I could see you were upset."

"Blaine that was months ago, it's fine," he replied, turning instantly back to watch Allie Sheedy. He wasn't ready then and certainly wasn't ready now.

"Kurt," Blaine urged, placing a firm hand on his arm. Kurt flinched, his heart quickening. He closed his eyes tight and waited. "Hey... I didn't mean to upset you."

Kurt fought the tears that threatened at his throat. Blaine's voice was ever so soothing, the kind that anyone would respond to with dreamy eyes and a flirtatious tilt of the head. He wanted to respond that way, wanted to do what people did on stage, in movies, in books and just smile, lean in, maybe brush away a stray curl and press a kiss to Blaine's lips to claim him and show every shred of emotion he felt inside. Wishes were all well and good...

"You didn't." The shock that followed after hearing his own voice so broken was painful – he couldn't keep the tears at bay for very long. It was embarrassing.

"Kurt-"

"Look, I'm just not very good at this." He slowly opened his eyes, keeping them on his knees.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Blaine could see the shake to Kurt's fingers. It wasn't much but it was enough to act as a catalyst for the rush of warmth and protection that surged through him. Nobody had done this for Kurt and it was about time somebody did. Somebody needed to help and understand.

Kurt lifted his gaze and peered, through his eyelashes, for a millisecond. Blaine smiled with a duck of his head.

"It's embarrassing," Kurt replied. He couldn't stop his lips quivering of their own accord. This couldn't be happening.

"I'm not judging. I want to help because it's clearly upsetting you and that's not ok."

Kurt swallowed hard. "I just," he tried, his voice shaking, "I think I might have a problem with stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Blaine asked, his voice couched in warmth.

There was a strained silence as Kurt closed his eyes against the sting of tears and bit back a sob. "Erm," he breathed in an attempt to fight it all back inside, "intimacy stuff."

"I see," Blaine said simply, looking directly at Kurt's cheeks. They were flushed and smattered with pink, his eyes rimmed with glistening tears. Blaine felt his heart ache in a way he wasn't used to. The urge to pull Kurt to him, to wrap him up and just promise him that he'd be fine was too overpowering. He couldn't- his job was to listen.

"What is it that you're frightened of?"

Kurt took a breath and looked up, meeting Blaine's eyes for the first time. They weren't judgemental or tinged with ridicule, they were just open and honest. A single tear dropped down his cheek, landing on the arm of his sweater leaving a dark stain. "Everything," he said simply, breathless, "I just can't-" Blaine brushed his fingers over Kurt's lightly. "It's so embarrassing. I don't want you to pity me."

"Believe me," Blaine urged, "I'm not sitting here out of pity, Kurt. I want to help."

"Nobody wants this," Kurt choked, the tears flowing down his cheeks now. He balled his hand up, pressing it under his eyes but the tears kept rolling over his knuckles, down his arms and pooling at the crook of his elbows. "I just know nobody is going to want to have to work so hard for-"

"For you?" Blaine asked, incredulously, "because Kurt if that's what you were going to say then you're crazy."

"No I'm not," he groaned, sniffing loudly before swallowing hard, "because I'm almost at college age and I haven't had so much as an offer."

"Kurt-"

"I just can't do what other people do," Kurt choked out, "I'm not like Finn or Sam or Mike. They all act like it's no big deal, like it's natural."

"Kurt, everyone's different and-"

"And what, Blaine?" he asked, frowning deeply as a fresh set of tears collected at his eyelashes, "it'll just take time? It'll happen eventually?"

"Of course it will," Blaine soothed, nodding gently, "and someone will not only understand but they'll help too."

"Nobody wants to have to work that hard, Blaine. I'm not so stupid to believe that."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Kurt sniffed, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hands, "I can't- I can't do all of the things that other people do so easily and who is going to sign up for that?"

"Someone who sees you for who you are."

"I just don't see why anyone would want to work that hard."

Blaine watched as a stray tear fell heavily onto the neckline of Kurt's sweater. "Why do you think you feel this way?"

A shudder travelled down Kurt's spine and wracked his shoulder blades, causing them to shake. He couldn't contain the feeling any longer. The shame of sitting in front of someone being so open like this, saying these things, was too upsetting to describe. "Embarrassment. Fear of... someone seeing me that way, of realising that I'm not like other people. I don't like the thought of another person acting in _that _way with _me_..." He couldn't finish.

"Kurt, when someone cares about you and wants to be with you, they don't judge you that way. They love you for you."

"Even if someone did like me-" Kurt stuttered out, fumbling over every syllable in an attempt to gain control of himself once more but it was too hard. His mind flooded with images of another person getting so close, of their eyes tracking every curve of his body, of the way he'd look and feel and the desperate drag of wishing he was covered, hidden and far away from exposure of any kind. "Even if they did, it's too hard."

"Is this about Karovsky?" Blaine asked softly, leaning down to try and capture Kurt's gaze. Kurt shook his head, wiping at his eyes once more with a trembling hand.

"Not all of it. I just- nobody has- I've never had someone who had just wanted to-" Blaine was sure he could feel his heart breaking. "Nobody has just... nobody has ever touched me in that way."

Blaine closed his eyes, focusing on his own breathing. There was no justice in the world when people so loving, so inherently fascinating and compassionate were treated with such disrespect. Nobody considered the consequences.

"Kurt, you have to listen when I say this. What Karovsky did... it doesn't feel like that. What he did was wrong and I know it hurt you and frightened you but it's not like that when someone cares."

"I cared about Finn," Kurt sobbed out, letting his head fall into his hands, "and I know he's my brother now but when we weren't and I felt _those _things... he didn't want me anywhere near him. He used to flinch whenever I went anywhere near him and I know he's not gay but it still hurt."

"People don't see the effect their actions have, Kurt. They don't consider how it makes people feel."

"I want all of that," Kurt said quietly, under his breath, "I want to know what it feels like, what it all feels like. I want to know what it's like to have someone like Finn had Rachel and Artie has Brittany. I want to be able to hold someone's hand. Urgh, I sound like a child."

"No you don't," Blaine pushed firmly, "you don't at all. Do you not see how normal that is?"

"I'm seventeen and I haven't done even a fraction of what everyone else has."

"It's not a race, Kurt," Blaine half laughed affectionately, moving his hand closer across the duvet. He felt the tension coil again, desperate to pull Kurt to him.

"I know but I want to know what it's all like and I can't. It's like something's stopping me and I run away from it. It makes me feel sick and anxious."

"Kurt, look at me," Blaine urged, sitting tall, "Look." Kurt wiped his eyes furiously. He took a breath before lifting his head delicately.

"I don't want to scare you. I'm not trying to push you to do anything you don't want to and you need to tell me stop if you feel uncomfortable but can we try something?"

"What?"

A small smile from Blaine was enough to dissolve a fraction of the nerves bubbling in Kurt's stomach. He watched as a small curl fell onto Blaine's temple. He was so close and so kind that it would have been so simple to just reach out and touch but the insecurity set in as always- how did he know if Blaine would want that? How did he know that Blaine wouldn't look at him and laugh? Would he make a fool out of himself?

"Give me your hand."

Kurt's eyes opened wide. He swallowed before tentatively resting his hand on the bed in front of him. "What are you going to do?"

That was when Blaine understood. The simple question. Control. It was the biggest issue of them all and one which was so difficult to untangle. Giving Kurt the control would trigger avoidance and his fears would take hold once more to ensure he didn't take that step but, on the other hand, he needed someone to talk him through anything and everything. That person had to ensure they didn't just act outright until Kurt was ready and in complete and utter trust. It all made so much sense now.

"Just touch."

Kurt felt a cascade of something down his back. He shivered and realised that not only were those feelings real, regardless of how masked they were by his alertness and anxiety in the moment, but they were strong and... nice.

Kurt watched as Blaine traced his finger from the dip at his wrist to the join just below his middle finger. The touch was feather-light and ticklish. "You ok?" Blaine asked sincerely, keeping his eyes on Kurt for any sign that he should stop. He received a small nod in reply. As his finger encircled Kurt's palm, drawing a single line along each finger, Blaine tracked along Kurt's wrist and began, gently, to travel along his forearm. His eyes never left Kurt's face.

"Tell me about the clothes you bought yesterday."

Kurt looked up quickly, dumfounded. "What?" he asked, his voice slight and still thick with emotion.

"Talk me through what you bought." Blaine smiled, realising his fingertips had reached the crook of Kurt's elbow.

"A new scarf," Kurt said quietly, breathing deep. Blaine touched gently over the rim of Kurt's shirt that cuffed at his elbow and began to travel up his arm, over the material. He smiled, watching Kurt's eyes flutter closed, the fine hairs on his arm rising a little as goose bumps formed.

"What colour?"

"Green and silk. It was... the only one left and... I had to buy it."

"Did you get anything else?"

As his fingertips neared the collar of Kurt's shirt, he stopped momentarily. He watched Kurt's breathing hitch but he didn't move away, he didn't put a stop to the experiment. His index finger found the curve of Kurt's neck, travelling in swirling patterns until he reached the angle of his collar bone. He took time to trace around it, pausing at every end to loop back carefully.

Kurt's skin was on fire, tingles tumbling over every expanse of skin and down every limb. He couldn't move and hardly found the ability to breathe but somehow the panic of the moment was waning slowly, subsiding to allow his body to recognise the actual situation he was placed in. It wasn't completely comfortable by any stretch of the imagination but Blaine was so close and so gentle that every touch felt like a new experience. He breathed through the nerves and focused on his own voice, which he was shocked to realise was becoming slightly more resolute.

"A coat. It's grey and tweed. This season... this season is high on riding attire and I... I liked the thought of elbow patches so I... I bought it to, to go with a pair of boots I bought a couple of months ago."

"Kurt?" Blaine watched as Kurt opened his eyes. The glittering blue shocked him for a second, his heart thudding deep in his chest. How anyone who looked as devastatingly gorgeous as Kurt could believe he was anything other than desirable was mind boggling. "Are you alright?"

"Why did you-?"

Blaine offered a warm smile. "That's what it's like."

Kurt blinked back at him, tears threatening once more. "Um-"

Blaine could see the unease tugging at Kurt's features. It was becoming too focused on him.

"Now it's your turn."

"What?"

"I want you to do the same to me."

"Blaine, no, I-"

He shuffled back, feeling the ache of fear and the rush of desperation to fight through it. He tried to move but Blaine placed a hand steadily on his.

"Am I scaring you?"

"No," Kurt lied.

"I'm here because I want to be and I'm not going to pull away. Why would I?"

Kurt watched Blaine's eyes slide closed, his hand laid open on the bed in front of him- waiting. He stretched his own fingers, noticing the way they were shaking slightly. "I don't know what to do," he whispered, saturated with emotion.

"Whatever you feel comfortable with."

"This is so embarrassing," Kurt choked out, "you shouldn't have to do this."

"I'm not embarrassed. I just hate that you think someone wouldn't want you close to them. I want to help you realise that just because you're scared, that doesn't mean that someone is going to judge you for it. I'm terrified of so much too."

Kurt's eyes fell as he breathed out heavily. "It's _you_ though."

Blaine finally opened his eyes. "And?" he asked, smirking with a hint of playfulness.

"Someone else isn't going to be like this... they're not going to be like you."

In the few moments of silence that reined, Blaine knew he had to get this right. There was only one chance of getting this perfect and in a way that Kurt would understand and actually accept.

"I need you to listen to me," he said simply, keeping his eyes locked on Kurt's, "and I want you to believe me because I'm being completely serious when I say this. I ... um, you remember Valentine's Day when were in the Lima Bean? You remember what we said to each other?"

Kurt was sure he stopped breathing. He could feel every single part of his body stand alert. "You said you weren't good with romance and that you didn't want to screw this up."

A wrinkle appeared as Blaine frowned slightly, wishing he hadn't quite phrased it that way. "Then you said it's just like 'When Harry Met Sally' to which I replied ... 'don't they get together in the end'?"

Kurt could feel his finger trembling again so he clasped them together tightly at the rush of emotion that filled his chest. He blinked back at Blaine, unable to stop looking into the hazel of his eyes. "I remember."

"Kurt, I meant that," he sighed, smiling as an offering of understanding, "I am no good at romance. I screw things up and I usually jump head first into things without thinking. I don't want to do that to... I mean, I don't want to be like that with you."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked with a shake to his words, unsure as to how he even managed to form words.

"I mean that I care far too much."

"I know you do."

"No, Kurt," he laughed, full of affection, "I don't just mean that you're my best friend. I mean that I care, a lot more than that. I don't... I don't just want to be your friend forever."

It was as if he was weighed down into the mattress. Kurt couldn't move, nor could he think straight. His first reaction was to run, then he wanted to laugh and finally, he wanted to cry. He was a mess and here, sitting in front of him was the guy he'd dreamed about for months with a revelation left hanging in mid air between them. There was no way he could be serious, not really. It was too good to be true.

"Let me be blunt for a moment," Blaine smiled, shaking his head in an attempt to relieve the tension, "your eyes... your eyes are breath taking. They're this indescribable colour and they sparkle. I've never met anyone with eyes that sparkle. You argue with me. I'm stubborn and can come across as overpowering at times but you don't let me... you kick me to the curb. Plus you look staggeringly good in skinny jeans, despite them being less than comfortable to sit in. I'm not going to go on but..."

Kurt was on fire. It was the only conclusion he could come to when he couldn't control the blush that burned his skin a deep red. He tried to duck his head to hide his face, feeling ever the teenager, but before he could, Blaine's cool fingertip brushed a single line across his cheek leaving his skin feeling scorched. He had to speak before Blaine even considered that his feelings weren't returned. The anxiety rose quickly but was swallowed down by a fighting instinct rising to the surface from a place deep down.

"I really like you." It was all he could manage but hope sprung and he held his breath, praying it was enough.

Blaine's heart soared secretly, instigating a wide smile. "We've got plenty of time for that but... ditto."

"Thank you," Kurt rushed out before his brain intervened.

"What for?"

"This," Kurt gestured between them, unsure exactly what he was referring to himself but, really, it was _everything_. In a single moment, Blaine had made him feel more comfortable and cherished than he'd ever felt in his entire life.

"We think about the here and now, ok? We take each day as it comes. We do what you feel comfortable with and only that, no matter how slow we take it. I think we both need it to be that way." It was at that moment that Kurt saw the flicker of sincerity in Blaine's eyes. He wasn't as '_put together'_ as he seemed, he wasn't as sure about himself as the world around him, including The Warblers, believed him to be. "We learn together, ok?"

Kurt sighed, feeling his eyes well up again. He nodded with a tiny smile so fused with gratitude and emotion.

"I'd like that."

For some unknown reason, Blaine's glanced at the clock which flashed eleven o'clock. "Oh god, I need to go," He turned back to Kurt, speaking carefully, "but I'm going to come by tomorrow and we'll go somewhere if you'd like? It is Saturday after all?"

Blaine made to stand, straightening his shirt. He swung his bag over his shoulder and turned to where Kurt was standing by the bed. "Thank you for- for tonight... I ..."

Blaine smiled as he slipped his shoes back on. He stepped close to Kurt, retaining a comfortable but intimate distance. Kurt didn't flinch, nor did her move. His eyes widened a little but it was then that Blaine witnessed him smile and he knew that as long as he lived, he would never ever forget the way Kurt looked in that moment. His cheeks were flushed, eyelashes damp and separated and his hair, so soft and still miraculously coiffed perfectly – he was beautiful.

"You're worth it... worth everything."

With that, Blaine let his fingertips rest momentarily against Kurt's chest before ducking his head with a small smile and leaving the room silently.

It took minutes, possibly hours, for Kurt's heart to calm and his skin to cool but as he sat on the edge of his bed, the room still his own and shrouded in comfort, he realised what he had never dared to before – he could finally allow his daydreams and ideals come to fruition but not isolated, he had someone in his life who cared and who would never judge. Despite the fact it would still take a large number of baby steps to get to where he wanted to be, he held trust in another who didn't just listen but understood without question.

As he slipped his jeans off, followed by his shirt, he glanced into his bathroom mirror for a second. He forced himself, eyes lingering purposefully as he slid his pajamas on. After offering a tiny smile to himself in the mirror, he climbed into bed, dragging the pillow that Blaine had been leaning against to his chest, laying his head down gently. Tomorrow would be scary but, for the first time, he had an inexplicable strand of hope to hold tightly onto.

* * *

_**Thank you so much for reading :) I'd love to know what you guys thought but regardless, I hope you enjoyed it.**_


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